


Mirci'runi

by mneiai



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood, Dark, Dark Jango Fett, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, Forced soulbonds, Jango Fett Lives, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Sithspawn Stewjoni, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: He noticed the slow, terrible formation of the bond only because he was a Jedi. Obi-Wan knew his mind perfectly and the dark tendrils seeping through what had been near-impermeable shields could not be missed.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 40
Kudos: 536





	Mirci'runi

**Author's Note:**

> I made a [post on Tumblr](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/626901702689357824/i-was-thinking-about-how-like-soulmate-aus-almost) about how often even innocent soulmate AUs can be interpreted as possessive/obsessive/dubcon and gave an idea for a darker soulmate AU that I ended up writing lol
> 
> This utilizes my [sithspawn!Stewjoni headcanon](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/626947454993104896/everything-so-far-about-my) wherein Obi-Wan isn't actually human, but is from a race of humanoid sentients that had been experimented on by Sith alchemists. It could arguably be seen as a sequel of sorts to [my first drabble where I used the idea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161553/chapters/62898343).
> 
> Jango Fett is the sort of person who would help bring countless child slave soldiers into the world to commit genocide against a religious order, so while I like softer Jango stuff (and, in fact, have written softer Jango stuff), this is not soft Jango.
> 
> There's no actual rape in this, though much of what happens is very non-consensual.
> 
> mirci'runi comes from mircin (cage)/mircir (capture)/mirci't (prisoner) and runi (a poetic form of "soul")

There was blood dripping from Obi-Wan's nose. If he didn't have worse things to worry about, he'd be concerned about the blue tinge, as if the medications to keep his iron content high were giving out.

No, he barely noticed it as he stumbled through his room to his fresher, clawing at his tunic. His chest was _on fire_ , as if the skin had been scraped away and acid was being dripped onto the muscle and bone underneath. 

When he was finally bare, staring at himself in the mirror, there was no damage. There was just a mark, dark and intricate, resting right above his heart.

A soulmark.

Humans didn't have soulmates, for as much as their culture was responsible for most of the romanticizing of the phenomenon, but Stewjoni did. Yet Stewjoni were _born_ with their Marks, no matter if their Match existed yet or not. 

They did not suddenly develop their Marks in their 30s like they were living in a holodrama.

And even then, no one _hurt this badly_ developing a Mark. Obi-Wan had studied them as all Jedi did, to be ready if one of their fellows was Marked or when dealing with others who were. There was none that spoke of pain so awful he thought he was dying.

When he'd finally calmed himself, he took a holo of his chest for the Temple records, cleaned up the blood, and went straight to the Halls of Healing.

They, too, were baffled.

***

He noticed the slow, terrible formation of the bond only because he was a Jedi. Obi-Wan knew his mind perfectly and the dark tendrils seeping through what had been near-impermeable shields could not be missed.

Nothing he did could dislodge them, only slow them down. They caught like his barbs on flesh, but he caught not cut into his mind to extract them.

Once enough had settled, the fleeting feelings came--not overly much, not overly strong, he _knew_ instinctively that whoever this bond connected to was far away. But enough to unsettle him, to interrupt him in the middle of a conversation or force him from meditation.

Then came the dreams. These could almost be what the holonovellas claimed they were, if he had _wanted_ it. A phantom lover was the furthest thing from his desires, no matter how his mind (and his body, in the waking world) reacted to the caresses and embraces.

He found himself missing his Match during the day, desiring more and more to sleep when before he'd often need to be forcibly reminded to do so. He didn't, his willpower still held out, but that _need_ ate away at him.

Jedi did not hate. Stewjoni weren't even _capable_ of it. And yet Obi-Wan was starting to wonder if that's what he felt towards the Mark he'd developed, towards the Match at the other end.

***

The mission was a simple one: infiltrate a base, slice some data, blow it up. Obi-Wan was the only Jedi, his job mostly to make sure they avoided being noticed.

Inevitably, he failed.

As soon as they dropped out of hyperspace, he became aware of his soulbond--stronger and deeper than it had ever been before. On the other side, his Match must have noticed, anticipation thrumming across their connection. 

They still had not fully Settled, would not until bare flesh touched bare flesh and their bodies served as conduits for their minds, so Obi-Wan could not tell much. But he knew his Match _wanted_ this bond, wanted _him_ , and he wondered what species he might be that such a horrible, late developing bond was so desired.

He warned the others on the mission that they might be compromised, but everyone decided to continue. Might be compromised and were compromised were two different things, after all, and for as much as they accepted "Jedi kriff" now, he knew there was still a level of distrust to his "mystical" abilities.

They got into the facility without issue. They even reached the datacenter and copied over the data. All the while the anticipation on the other side of his bond made Obi-Wan's muscles tense, his eyes constantly searching in shadows and doorways.

On their way out, the trap was sprung. 

He had only a second of warning, the anticipation turning to triumph and making him push away from the others, knowing instinctively this was about _him_. That _they_ could still complete their mission if he could just distract his Match enough.

That his Match was a Separatist was somehow not even surprising, anymore. 

The droids poured in, cutting him off from the exit, and he did his best to keep all the attention on him. When they were joined by another fighter, a humanoid in beskar'gam clearly not trying for lethal force, Obi-Wan felt sick--and he hoped Fett was experiencing _that_ , over the bond between them.

Officially, the resurgent Haat Mando'ade were neutral in the war, though everyone who fought in it knew Fett worked with the Separatists. But they couldn't _prove_ Mand'alor Jango Fett of the True Mandalorians and the bounty hunter going by Jango Fett were the same person. Satine and Obi-Wan had many, many holo exchanges sharing their frustrations over that.

Fett being Obi-Wan's Match was impossible, though, his mind reeling with just the thought of it. They'd met in person multiple times, they often clashed on the battle field or in missions like this. If they were Matches, they would have _known_.

And yet Fett wasn't fighting to kill and when Obi-Wan was sure his people had gotten away and surrendered, it was accepted without issue.

He reluctantly rolled his lightsaber hilt towards Fett, who was in the process of taking off his buy'ce and didn't even seem to _care_. Smug satisfaction radiated down their bond, increasing as Fett walked towards him.

"It can't be you."

His Match laugh, dark amusement flowing from him. "You know it is. We're soulmates now, cyare."

" _Now?_ Fett--"

He just managed to catch him as he invaded Obi-Wan's personal space, hands grappling for the weak points of the armor to push him _back_. But hand-to-hand combat against a Force user was something Fett had trained for and within moments Obi-Wan felt his arms being twisted behind him, their torsos flush against each other.

Fett looked up with an almost shy expression, the bond flowing with an unusual softness that forced Obi-Wan to relax with it.

Then Fett struck, his lips against Obi-Wan's, the bond tearing through the rest of his shields and clawing its way to his very core.

That hurt, too, nearly as much as the initial Marking had, and at some point Obi-Wan thankfully passed out.

***

He came awake, of course, in a bed, stripped down to his lowest layer. From the cramped quarters and the thrumming in the metal walls, it was in a ship that had already entered hyperspace.

Obi-Wan had to wonder if any of the data collected was worthwhile or if the entire mission had been a trap just for him.

The bond was not just background noise, now, he could feel Fett as he might once have Anakin--if they were standing in the same room with no shields at all at a point when their Master-Padawan bond had been its strongest. The emotions bled into him and, he assumed, his own bled back out.

After a lifetime of being bonded to people who respected the sanctity of someone's mind, it was jarring.

Fett had noticed he was awake, of course, and there was a moment of concentration which Obi-Wan took as him double checking the navcomp before making his way towards the room. Standing from the bed, Obi-Wan placed himself in the center, arms folded together as he didn't have sleeves to tuck them into.

The amusement that filtered into him let him know that his own awkwardness had been caught, and acknowledged. 

Fett didn't bother knocking, striding into the room and going straight into Obi-Wan's personal space. Not that there was anything new about that, Fett had been doing that since their very first meeting.

His hands on Obi-Wan were a sudden shock, still, because it had felt as though the bond could not get stronger but then it _did_. He felt almost lighthearted from the intensity, not even caring at the way Jango's proprietary touch moved over him, peeling off the thing shirt he'd been wearing.

Technically, Obi-Wan wasn't defenseless. Even if he'd been human, he wouldn't be. And yet the idea of _hurting_ Jango felt...impossible. At least until he had more control over his side of the bond.

"The Taungs, my ancestors, thought it was sinful for a the most skilled warriors to not join us," Fett murmured, hands sliding along Obi-Wan's body, seeming to pay the closest attention to the scars from the surgeries that made him look human. "There were ways to fix that, though, and one special way available to the highest ranking warriors."

Fett, the Mand'alor, was all but purring against him as Obi-Wan shivered in the closest semblance to horror he could manage. 

"If the Mand'alor sees one skilled enough, mandokarla enough, to be their Match, what right does fate have to keep them apart?"

"You--this was--" he couldn't even bring himself to articulate the pieces he was putting together.

"You were meant to be my soulmate, cyare, I just made it so." He was kissing Obi-Wan, now, his neck, his shoulders, down his chest and tracing over the Mark. "The ritual was difficult, you were so resistant, but as soon as I knew what you were, I knew it would take. Taungs and Stewjoni have been Matched so many times before."

He felt lightheaded and stumbled back to the bed, Jango following, his own steps not entirely steady--at least he was affected by the bond, too.

This was a threat he hadn't even known could exist. In his thoughts it was wrong, so wrong, but the pressure from the bond pulsed rightness and belonging through him.

Even if he wanted to fight, to break free...there was no way he could go back to being what he had been. He was too compromised. And Fett--who was working with the Separatists, working with the _Sith_ \--might have even worse tricks up his sleeves if Obi-Wan _did_ flee.

None of the lessons on Marks ever called them cages. None of the lessons on soulmates ever called them captives.


End file.
